


Touched by the Wind

by Aate



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Baby Dragon, Hurt Original Percival Graves, Kisses, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-14 19:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13596564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aate/pseuds/Aate
Summary: Five times Newt gave Percival an unexpected kiss.





	1. Chapter 1

1.

Suddenly, there was a dragon on his desk.

The dragon stared at him with its yellow eyes and Percival met the stare for _several long seconds_ , up until the dragon looked away in order to start chewing on the Cunningham case report.

Slowly, Percival put the cap on his pen, placed the capped pen onto the desk on top of the Sylvester files the labrador-sized dragon was now stomping on, and took _several long minutes_ to rub his temples to shy away the beginnings of a headache while the constant sound of grunting and chewing told of the dragon meticulously destroying a morning worth of his work.

After his coffee cup suddenly turning into a sucking void earlier that morning, the dragon on his desk was only the second worst thing of his day so far, and it wasn’t yet lunch time.

“Fucking Wednesdays…” Percival muttered and got up, careful to not make any sudden moves. He did the buttons of his suit jacket and adjusted his cufflinks before unceremoniously picking up the dragon by the midriff. The little bastard tried to gnaw and scratch him for it, but his magic was powerful enough to keep them both from getting injured by the sharp claws and the equally sharp-looking teeth, although his tie did get burnt before his shields shot up, just in time to protect his body from the flames the dragon rudely breathed at him.

With a wave of his hand, Percival put out the fire burning away the curtains and flicked a finger to open up a window in order for all the smoke to get aired out of the room.

“Now,” he said to the dragon who was actively trying to bite his nose (or to eat his entire face, who knew), “we’ll go find the head of the Beast Bureau.”

Before exiting his office, Percival made sure to slick back his hair just in case the head of the Beast Bureau would notice, this time.

A wizard could always hope.

* * *

Newt Scamander was in the lobby, pale and wide-eyed, and looking like he was doing his best to search for something specific while simultaneously desperately pretending to look like he wasn’t searching for anything particular at all.

He would hurry to stand by a bench, wrung his hands and nod frantically by way of greeting at everyone who walked pass (even when they weren’t even looking in his direction), then nervously look around as if to make sure no-one was watching, before suddenly ducking under the bench as if to see whether whatever he was looking for could be found from under there. When he couldn’t find what he was looking for, he would hurry off to check under other benches and behind statues while greeting everyone he encountered with such frantic nods and frozen smiles he was gathering quite a lot of suspicious looks from Senior Auror Weston at the reception desk.

It was silly, really, and not at all an effective method of searching for anything, but Percival caught several nice views of the shapely ass, as Newt crawled on the floor on his hands and knees, and so he couldn’t find it in himself to complain. In fact, he might have stood there for longer than intended, so deep in longing and admiration of the said ass that he half forgot the small dragon trying to kill him and the urgent business of returning the dragon to its handler. He was only brought back to himself when Weston from his seat at the desk by Percival cleared his throat, loudly, in a manner that made it clear he had done so many times already.

Snapping back to his senses, Percival inclined his head at Weston once, stiffly, receiving a slow salute and a wink in return.

“You could’ve just told some Junior Auror to take the beast to Scamander,” the bearded auror noted, soft voice amused. “But I suppose it does send a message, to literally carry around dragons for him.”

Had it been someone else – someone who hadn’t been an auror in charge of the reception already when Percival had been but a boy playing with tin aurors in the lobby while his parents worked for the department, someone who hadn’t smiled and patted his head and given him sweets and told him to call him “Uncle Ollie” – Percival wouldn’t have allowed such comments.

Making an exception for Weston, however, didn’t mean he wanted to respond to his comments, and so Percival left the grey-haired wizard chuckling to himself at the desk and instead made a beeline to Newt, who by now was gazing up at the high columns as if wondering whether he could find what he was looking for from up there near the ceiling.

“Newt,” Percival said when he was close enough to be heard. The hoarseness of his voice took him off guard and he cleared his throat with a cough, trying again, stronger, “Newt.”

Newt didn’t turn around, but there was a moment in which his whole body seemed to freeze up.

“Um,” he finally spoke, voice unusually high. “Oh, hi, Percival. I didn’t notice you. Hello. You’re- you’re out of your office early, earlier than usual. Not that- not that you’re not allowed to be. But you’re out, earlier than usual.”

“I wouldn’t be,” said Percival, dryly, “had your dragon not eaten my reports.”

The dragon in question was hissing and trying to breathe fire, but Percival kept it under control, ignoring the wary looks the beast was being given from all around the lobby.

Slowly, Newt – with his shoulders visibly tensed up – turned around. The blue eyes quickly took in the struggling dragon in Percival’s arms – which were starting to tire, dragons weren’t light to carry, small or not – and after a wary glance up at Percival’s face, the head was bent and the curly fringe fell in front of the pretty features.

“Why do you presume he’s _my_ dragon?”

Unimpressed, Percival didn’t deem the question with an answer and soon enough Newt’s shoulders slumped and he reached out towards Percival with his outstretched arms.

“Okay, just… Please, give Aron to me.” Newt bit his lip. “I’ve been looking for him for the better part of an hour. He got away when I was trying to take his measurements. He’s so young, still, barely out of the egg. He doesn’t yet know any better.”

Percival was more than ready to hand the struggling thing over, and Newt appeared equally ready to wrap his arms around Aron. The dragon calmed down instantly when Newt steadied him against his shoulder, there was no fire or clawing or biting.

Which was impressive. Newt sure did have a way with creatures.

“You really need to keep the beasts better in control,” Percival told him sternly, nonetheless. “I’m saying this as the Director for Magical Security. I can’t have dragons running around in my city.”

“Um, technically, Aron couldn’t have been running because his legs are too short for that.”

“But,” Newt quickly amended, blushing, seeming to notice the glare directed at him, “but I understand what you mean, all technicalities aside. I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

With that, Newt leant forward and pressed a soft kiss on Percival’s lips.

"Thank you for looking after Aron," he said, softly, quickly, hurrying then away, leaving Percival standing there in the middle of the lobby, speechless, frozen.

What had just happened?

Newt wasn’t one for physical intimacy, he sure wasn’t one for public declarations of any kind. Yet, he _had_ just pecked Percival right there where anyone could see.

Dazed, Percival barely managed to resist the urge to touch his lips like some lovesick teen.

Thinking about it, he concluded he needed to go make sure Newt hadn't been put under a spell of any kind. He had liked the peck, but only if Newt had actually consented to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing about these two. They're adorable.
> 
> This fic is just something quick I wanted to write before going to sleep. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. Let me know, if you want to read more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is my way of thanking you for the comments&kudos. <3

2.

It was a risk, to apparate, and he knew it.

Nonetheless, he apparated, leaving his position in the line of aurors, and placed himself in front of the phoenix eggs and the incubator, waving his wand to twine a Shielding Charm around the egg box the second he was close enough to do so.

A surprise though the phoenix eggs might have been, Newt would want them to remain intact, so he would keep them intact, for Newt, a raid to the headquarters of illegal wand trade or not.

Unfortunately, Percival didn’t get the shields for himself up in time, and the curse hit him in the shoulder, piercing skin and breaking bone, damaging nerve endings. The scream of pain tearing right through him turned into an outraged roar when his mind caught up with his body, and he threw hexes at his opponents hiding among the boxes and crates, blinking away the fog clouding his vision even as his shirt became uncomfortably wet with the warm blood pulsing steadily out of the wound in his shoulder as well as the exit wound in his back.

Despite of the charmed combat gloves, his fingers refused to hold onto his wand any longer and the sound of it clattering away some three yards away echoed loud in the suddenly silent bunker. Annoyed and very much bothered, Percival frowned at it – he had never before lost his wand during a fight, not even as a Junior Auror.

Unexpectedly, his knees hit the rough concrete floor, and that surprised him even more than losing his wand. Had he been injured that badly?

“The director is down!” the call went up both behind and in front of him, in front of him as a whoop of malicious delight, behind him not professionally enough to hide Jenkins’ shock.

Suddenly, explosions of bright color lit up the bunker all around Percival, as the criminals attacked again and the aurors responded with newfound determination – “The director is down” appeared to be the cue everyone had needed for the fighting to take an even more ferocious turn.

Frowning, Percival looked down at his shoulder.

The wound was cursed, obviously, but he should be capable enough with first aid magic to not bleed out on the spot. Casting a few quick first aid charms on his wounds to prevent himself from dying immediately, Percival looked dizzily around to take in the positions of his aurors and their opponents, deciding he would get around to healing himself properly as soon as he had the overall situation under control, as soon as he was sure of his aurors’ safety. Now, he simply didn’t have the magic to spare to fully heal himself, let alone the time to do so, and while he understood the severity of his own condition, the safety of his aurors was his first priority.

“Jenkins!” he managed to use wandless magic to be heard over the screams and the explosions as curses went awry and shattered parts of concrete walls. “Take your team into the position eight-AK!”

“Yes, Sir!”

Jenkins would now advance the criminals with Team Beta, all five aurors in their Animagus forms, Percival knew without needing to check, just as he knew they would need cover. Gritting his teeth, the pain barely bearable, he forced out, “Weddings, nine-FT!” as that order would have Weddings with Team Alpha giving cover for Team Beta.

Weddings’ expected, “On it, Boss!” was instant, as were the small hands suddenly tearing apart his reddened shirt, his fine black coat having been removed magically. Percival followed the hands up the arms all the way up to the shoulders until he saw the tight clench of Tina’s jaw.

“Goldstein,” he acknowledged the auror. “Stop fussing over me and go arrest those bastards. That’s an order.”

“Then stop bleeding, and I will,” came the snap of an answer, even as Tina looked over her shoulder at the criminals who were doing their damnest to get through the shields Team Beta had by now hastily conjured up all around Percival. The electric lamp exploded as a wayward hex hit it, and as the light went out, only the colorful strikes of spells and curses illuminated the bunker.

“And that was an order too, Sir, with all due respect,” Tina was speaking through gritted teeth, eyes again on Percival’s shoulder, her wand raised as she applied first aid magic. “Newt will be furious as it is, and I don’t want him to be furious with _me_ as well, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just go ahead with keeping you alive.”

Newt wouldn’t be furious, Percival knew, regarding the phoenix eggs with satisfaction. The eggs were intact, the incubator was intact. Newt would be happy, and grateful – and who knew, perhaps Newt would be grateful enough to demonstrate his gratefulness again in a form of a peck.

The peck Newt had given him two weeks ago had not been due to spells or potions, Percival had been relieved and happy to find out after studying Newt just in case. It was more of a case of-

The incubator exploded in green light and sharp shards as the killing curse aimed at Percival went awry and hit it instead. Percival swore – he would be damned if he couldn’t save the eggs – and shrugged Tina’s hands off him, applying wandless magic to get himself standing upright and to renew the shields around the eggs.

“You are hereby under arrest,” he calmly informed the dark wizards hiding behind the boxes and crates. “Your wands will now be confiscated.”

He then closed his eyes, let his magic wander free, guided it towards the living beings hiding in the shadows. He twined his magic slowly, carefully around their struggling forms and pulled them closer, brought them towards him, frozen, and unable to move away, holding –

“Sir, _Sir_!”

– onto them, securely but not too tightly. He disregarded their wands, all eight of them, floating them over to –

“You’ve got them, Sir, you hear me? You’ve got them, but you _need to stop now_ , or you’re going to hurt yourself. Open your eyes, Percival. You’ve got to open your eyes.”

– his aurors, and as he had the eight criminals under the control of his magic, he knew he had allowed his magic too much power since it was now guiding him instead of him it, and he needed to stop that before his instictive magic would go too far, and so he brought a stop to his magic, bringing simultaneously down himself.

* * *

He woke up wrapped in soft, white sheets.

Sitting by his hospital bed, there was Newt with dark circles under his eyes, the messy curls even more unkempt than usual. He was stroking Percival’s hair, a faraway look in his eyes.

“I’d rather,” Newt was saying, seeming unaware Percival had awoken, “I’d rather you’d kept _yourself_ intact.”

Wondering about the statement, Percival couldn’t keep his eyes open for any longer. Before darkness again claimed him, he could feel the soft press of Newt’s lips against his, and how could it even be that his heart was suddenly soaring while his body remained still and hurting on the bed?

* * *

It took eight whole days for the magic to do its job and for Percival to be back in his office, working. Even if the pain was now but a memory, he could still feel Newt's lips kissing him, softly, sweetly, and much as he wanted to, he didn't mention it to Newt in case Newt would tell him it had been but a dream.

Selfish or not, he wanted to believe it had really happened, their second kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not 100% happy with this chapter, but perhaps someone enjoyed it anyway. :D I hope that someone was you, so hit me with a comment to let me know.


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